


Body of Work in Progress

by AnonEhouse



Series: Tiny Tony 'verse [9]
Category: Iron Man (Comic), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Daddy Issues, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is twelve. Tony is bored. Tony develops an interest in biology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body of Work in Progress

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Tony is pleased when he notices that he's growing taller, even though his arms, hands, legs and feet are suddenly disproportionate and clumsy. This results in a few minor accidents in his workshop (involving no loss of life or limbs or even anything that can't grow back) and a temporary ban on running the confidence course, which he counts as a win.

The other changes he notices are either subtle or weird, and sometimes involve inconvenient mid-week laundry detail. Obviously, he can't simply ignore the situation. What if something goes wrong? He remembers overheard conversations between Mom and Dad about Dad's exposure to radiation, and the possibility of genetic damage. Tony had asked Rhodey to compare with him once, and except for Rhodey being bigger, things all looked pretty much the same, so he'd dismissed the worries as unfounded. But there's no one to compare with now. Tony has a private room and a private shower, and sneaking in to check on the older students would be really, really difficult to explain. And probably painful.

So Tony looks closely at himself in his shower every day, poking and prodding. He borrows calipers and other measuring tools from his lab to make a daily chart. "Linear, cubic, or exponential? Exponential seems unduly optimistic. Perhaps logarithmic." 

It's annoying not to know what's behind the process. Tony wishes there were some method of connecting all the libraries of the world to his computer. He's pretty sure there must be plenty of information about puberty, if only he could get at it. Parts of his body are more sensitive, including parts he didn't think really ought to be. Whining that he a) isn't up for the physical classes and b) has already completed the assignments for a month ahead in the academics, so really, he should have an unofficial holiday actually _works_ which makes him sure that he looks particularly pathetic and useless. Things are pretty bad when hardened field agents pat you on the shoulder and say, "It's ok, Tony."

He gets side-tracked by thoughts about nerves for a while and spends a couple of happy weeks in the lab having decided that yes, he can ignore his body while he's developing a sonic neural paralyzer. It's not really a useful weapon because of the short range and the necessity of protecting the user, but he thinks it's pretty cool, so he encloses the schematics in a letter to Jarvis. Jarvis passes on things to Dad for Tony and tells him whether they get put into production. It makes him feel like he's keeping in touch with Dad. And as long as he's writing to Jarvis, he adds a request for information on puberty, with emphasis on extrapolating the likely end result. Jarvis is usually pretty good about explaining things.

An hour later Tony is in his room, trying to decide if there are two or three dark hairs on his upper lip. Or perhaps it's a smudge of grease. He hears someone knock on his door and turns to see one of the students. 

"You're to report to the infirmary, Stark."

The student doesn't wait for him to reply before leaving. Tony sighs. He should have known whoever read the letter would turn him in. Tony dutifully reports to the infirmary. "I'm not sick."

"I know. I asked you here for a talk." The doctor, who Tony knows for a fact is far more comfortable removing bullets than nursing a kid through the flu, waves Tony into a chair. He starts talking about hormones and hair growth, voices breaking, body odor, pimples, and uncontrollable public bodily reactions with a subcategory extolling the benefits of tight underpants and baggy jackets. Tony listens with a growing sense of horror while trying to keep his face a blank. He is going to be a total MESS for years and with no guarantee he won't turn out a weedy, scrawny disaster with a squeaky voice and no facial hair. He could do without chest hair, but he's been dreaming of the day he could grow a proper mustache, or even a beard.

Once Tony is dismissed, with evident relief on the doctor's face, he flees into his workshop for the next week, emerging only at essential intervals for food -- and he's hungry all the time so he has to avoid annoying the kitchen staff or else they lock up the peanut butter. The doctor must have passed a report on to higher-ups, as Tony is still not dragged out for any lessons or nagged in any way. It's eerie. Like he's become invisible. Oh, now _that_ would be a cool bit of technology. Something that multi-masked so you weren't detectable by either visible radiation or radar, or sonar. But the technological infrastructure isn't in place yet. Pity. So many things have to wait until the foundations are in place.

"Mail call." 

Tony looks up from his design for a flying submarine motorcycle. The sidecar is proving to be a problem. "It's not the first of the month. Is it?" He's fairly sure he hadn't lost track of time to that extent.

"Special run." The student tosses a large package in Tony's general direction and leaves.

Tony sees Jarvis's handwriting on the parcel and smiles. He opens it up slowly, so he can imagine the most amazing and wonderful things inside. When he opens it the smell of chocolate hits him first. "COOKIES!" Tony opens the enclosed tin reverently. Jarvis's Double Chocolate Macadamia Nut cookies are the best things in the world. He stuffs one into his mouth before he returns to exploring the other contents of the box. 

There's a thick pamphlet on top. _Welcome To Your New Body_ it declares in bold lettering. He winces, and then opens the pamphlet, skimming over the chapter headings. "Hygiene routines-- shower every day? Well, really, sometimes that's just not reasonable...Good Skin Care Technique... there's a technique? It's skin, you put soap and water on it, you try not to get it cut up or burned..." Tony looks at the sprinkling of welding spark marks on his forearm. "Ok, room for improvement there. Explain Proper Shaving Techniques...oh come on, how difficult can it be? It's not as if my face is a toroidal surface or a hypercube." He continues reading. "Go Easy on Perfumes. Excellent advice, I'll stop using it as mouthwash. Make Hygiene Fun... what, bubble bath? Make it 'My Time'... huh... use your time in the bathroom to relax and plan for the week ahead." Tony blinks. "I have no idea what they mean by that. What else... Give your Tween Space. What is a tween? Is that even a word? What kind of space?" Tony looks at the last heading. "Offer Compliments... you have _got_ to be kidding. I'm going to be a pimply, squeaky, hormonally unbalanced, socially embarrassing DISASTER! Compliments!" Tony tosses the pamphlet to the floor.

"I'm DOOOMED," Tony moans, "DOOOOMED". He drops his head forward, clunking it on something else in the box. "Hmm?" He rummages and comes up with a photo album. He opens it. The first photo is of an incredibly scrawny, awkward looking kid with huge eyeglasses, blotches on his cheeks, and a really unfortunate haircut. Jarvis's handwriting identifies it as Howard Stark, age 13. Tony grins and starts flipping pages. The next photo is a chubby boy so blond it looks like he hasn't got eyebrows. His chin is sharp enough to poke holes in the stiff black jacket he's wearing. The jacket's sleeves are two inches too short, exposing knobby wrists and outsized hands. The note reads 'Edwin Jarvis, age 14'. Tony laughs out loud. Rhodey's dad is in the book too, and all of Tony's bodyguards in all their awkward adolescent glory. At the end there's a really, really pathetically weedy blond boy who at least has good skin and bright eyes- hard to tell in an old black and white photo, but they're probably a nice shade of blue. The kid looks vaguely familiar, but there's no note identifying him, just an arrow pointing to the last page.

Tony flips it. There's a photo of Captain America. The caption reads, "Anything is possible, Tony."


End file.
